


Terms of Endearment

by ceasefire



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Team Dynamics, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 10:24:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7218742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceasefire/pseuds/ceasefire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times McCree gave Hanzo a pet name, and one time Hanzo gave McCree one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terms of Endearment

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a fic I was writing as a short break in the middle of another fic I'm writing, which is kinda serious and dark compared to my other Overwatch works. I wanted to write something quick and fluffy in between the angst, so naturally I wrote 3k words and this became my longest Overwatch fic yet.
> 
> This fic was based very loosely on [this post](http://toothpaste-face.tumblr.com/post/145557656994/my-favorite-ship-trope-is-one-member-being-way-way) by toothpaste-face on tumblr. The nicknames from it inspired the idea for this fic!

**one. Cupcake**

The way McCree figured it, they were in that awkward stage when they know there's something more than camaraderie between them but neither of them had made a move. He couldn't recall feeling this goddamn bashful about asking someone out in his entire life. Of all the people that could've had the ability to make him feel like some smitten kid trying to ask their crush to the school dance, of course it had to be Hanzo Shimada that had that effect.

After a particularly rough mission in Russia that ended with McCree's prosthetic arm in dire need of repair and Morrison sighing like a parent who "wasn't _mad_ at you, just _disappointed_ ", McCree figured that one too many bullets had come close to hitting him between the eyes for him to be running around with his tail between his legs like a scolded dog. That sudden burst of courage was how he found himself striding through the safehouse where the team was holed up in, drawing the attention of his fellow agents as he made his way to the balcony. He was damn glad his arm was repaired so he could clench it into the tightest fist he could manage to relieve some of the nerves.

Hanzo was sitting with eyes closed on the balcony, his sake flask beside him, half his chest still exposed despite the chill in the air. He gave McCree a questioning look as he approached, and an even more confused look to Lena, Hana and Lucio, who had decided to tail McCree of their own accord.

"Is there a problem, cowboy?"

"Not as such," McCree replied, doing his best to keep his cool. "Just have a proposition for you, if you're interested in hearin' it."

Hanzo inclined his head to signal McCree to continue, and the other man took a deep breath.

"Which city are we working in next?"

"Numbani, I believe," Hanzo said with the slightest air of distaste. "Why?"

"I know a good restaurant there. Or a bar, if you prefer," McCree said, flashing what he hoped was an award-winning smile.

Hanzo raised one eyebrow, ignoring the hiss of _I knew it!_ from Hana. "Are you… asking me on a date?"

McCree couldn't help but grin as the barest hint of pink rose to Hanzo's cheeks. From the heat in his own face, he figured his blush was probably brighter than the sun at midday. "Sure am, cupcake."

The peanut gallery groaning at the pet name drowned out Hanzo's initial answer, and McCree had to tell them to keep it down.

"Pardon?"

"I accept," Hanzo murmured, voice getting stronger as he continued, "provided that you do not call me _cupcake_ again."

"Can do," McCree replied, trying not to sound too excited and failing spectacularly. "It's a date."

Hanzo actually smiled at him then, and McCree quickly retreated past Lena, Hana and Lucio and back to his room to smoke enough cigars to slow his heart rate back down to normal.

**two. Buttercup**

"Want me to order for you? Hold the door for you? Help you get seated?"

Hanzo narrowed his eyes. "You are ridiculous."

"I can't help if my upbringing taught me to be a gentleman."

"You were a petty criminal."

"Outlaw, thank you kindly. Makes it sound more dashing. And it doesn't mean I can't be polite, ex-yakuza."

Hanzo scoffed lightly at that, and McCree grinned. Hanzo had chosen the restaurant in the end, to a moderate degree of surprise from McCree, and he'd seemed fairly impressed when it turned out to be pretty darn fancy. He was wearing a yukata, tattoo carefully hidden away by the sleeves and neckline of the garment. McCree managed to scrub up okay too -- if Hanzo ever said he never did anything for him, he could always remind him he shaved on their first date -- though he got a few odd looks because he'd be damned before he stopped wearing his boots. The spurs gave the whole ensemble some character.

"You had Numbani cuisine before?" McCree asked, tapping the base of his wine glass with his prosthetic fingers.

Hanzo seemed mildly annoyed by that, but he nodded nonetheless. "I've only been here once before now, but not for long. Before, I did not like the idea of unity that this city seems to live by, but now…"

Expression darkening, Hanzo frowned and averted his gaze. McCree understood; Hanzo not only had the old grievances from the omnic uprising to worry about as most people did, but also his relationship with Genji. It had reached the level of "polite but strained" fairly recently, which was better than it had been in months, but McCree still figured it was best to change the subject.

"Don't worry your pretty head about it, buttercup. Tonight's about enjoyin' ourselves, after all. Relax."

"Butter… cup…?"

"Hmm?"

Hanzo was still frowning, but now he looked confused. "A cup of butter? That's a compliment?"

"Oh, uhh," McCree started awkwardly, scratching the prickly heat that had formed on the nape of his neck. "It's a type of flower, now that you mention it."

"Ah," Hanzo said, nodding as he went to raise his glass to his lips. "Another odd endearment, then."

"Guess I'll strike that one from the list if you think it's odd," McCree chuckled.

It was hard to tell with his mouth covered by his wine glass, but McCree was positive that Hanzo was trying not to smile.

**three. Pumpkin**

"Fancy seeing you here."

Hanzo's blank stare was quickly ruined by the corners of his lips twitching upward, and McCree slid onto the mess hall bench next to him, their thighs touching beneath the table.

Overwatch was currently making use of one of its old safehouses in Germany, suggested by Reinhardt after an incident with Talon in Italy had given them the need to lay low. Laying low usually meant no leaving the building and staying in close quarters with every other agent that had been on the mission, so that meant the two of them were stuck for an indefinite amount of time with Hana, Genji and Morrison. Needless to say, spirits could've been a little higher.

Hana was sitting across the table from them, and she made a face at the sight.

"This is the worst. Stuck in this house with you two lovebirds, with this gross ration stuff Overwatch considers food…"

"Back in my day we were thankful for this kind of thing," Morrison growled from across the room, and Hana rolled her eyes.

"Better stop before I get a lecture from Grandpa over there."

Morrison looked like he was about to speak again, but Genji's arrival seemed to put him off and he simply waved his hand irritably in Hana's direction. Genji sat down next to Hana, the vents on his cybernetics glowing green as he looked between his brother and McCree.

"You decided to join us," Hanzo said. His body had tensed; McCree could feel it, but he said nothing. It was better than it was in the past, with Hanzo practically being unable to share space with Genji without his guilt getting the better of him.

"I've been feeling… troubled since the mission went wrong," Genji replied. McCree figured that it would be like this; it hadn't even been Genji's fault that the mission had failed, it was just rotten luck that he'd been the one to get pinned down first. Besides, no one had gotten seriously hurt, they'd gotten out safe… sure, it might be a while before Talon let their guard down on their mark, but another chance would present itself eventually. Heck, McCree had screwed up plenty in his time. No point in crying over spilt milk.

"And you're gonna use us to take your mind off it? Well, feel free," McCree said with a smile.

"I cannot talk to Master Zenyatta right now. Are you suggesting I should use you as a substitute, Jesse?" Genji asked, his voice warm.

"Maybe, if you just need someone to lend an ear. Not much good with all that spiritual stuff, though."

A soft, stifled laugh caught McCree's attention and brought his focus back to the older Shimada brother.

"What're you laughing at? Don't think I'm the type to bother with that sort of thing?"

"Actually," Hanzo said, obviously amused, "I think it suits you far too well."

Hana looked twice as disgusted as usual as she picked at her food. "Urgh, I'm still not used to you smiling all the time. It's, like… breaking the natural order of things or something like that."

"And here I was, thinkin' you were still our biggest fan. That's alright though, isn't it pumpkin?" McCree said, leaning over to plant a kiss on Hanzo's cheek. A few of the lights on Genji's cybernetics flickered red, matching his older brother's face.

"Pumpkin? Why does English have so many bizarre food-related pet names?" Hanzo questioned. McCree figured it was a means of distracting everyone rather than a genuine curiosity.

"Hmm… never thought about that before. Maybe it's because you look good enough to eat," McCree smirked, drawing a collective groan from the rest of the group.

"That was terrible," Hanzo commented, all traces of embarrassment gone except for the second-hand embarrassment he was suffering from listening to McCree.

"And I thought these tinned foods were the reason I was feeling sick," Hana groaned.

"There are some things in life that I don't need to hear, and that was definitely top of the list," Genji said, sounding disgusted. "Brother, please do not tell me that you knew what McCree was like before he asked you on the date."

"I didn't think it would be this bad, but this... this is truly tragic."

"Alright, I get it," McCree interrupted with a sigh. "Any old time you three wanna stop with this, go right on ahead."

A few moments of silence passed before a gruff voice broke the peace.

"You deserve it, McCree. That was godawful," Morrison said from the other side of the room, and everyone except McCree burst into laughter.

**four. Sweetheart**

It took a long time for Hanzo to open up to McCree about his troubles with his past. That was fine with the other man; although the whole of the old Overwatch crew had known for years that Genji's brother had been the one to hurt him to the point that he needed to be saved with extensive cybernetics, McCree knew it wasn't his place to ask about it until Hanzo spoke of it. Goodness knows that he had his own ghosts to deal with too.

The moment came one day when they were staying in Hanamura. It was a quiet stopover before the team headed on to China to investigate the Vishkar Corporation's recent activities, and for once they'd been put up in a hotel near the airport instead of a watchpoint or safehouse. Jetlagged and lazy, McCree and Hanzo had spent almost the entire day in their room before the sting, curled up on the same bed with the room's TV turned on low in the background.

Hanzo was carding his fingers through McCree's hair, rough-tipped and strong; McCree was practically purring in response. Over time Hanzo's movements began to slow before stopping completely, and McCree cracked one eye open to glance at the other man.

"Ya alright?"

"Yes," Hanzo replied, eyes still wandering from McCree's face. "I am just… thinking."

"'Bout what?"

"What you must have thought of me, when we first met properly."

McCree sat up at that, leant back against the head of the bed and watched Hanzo's eyes scan his face, dark and deep and full of emotion. "Where'd this come from? If you don't mind me asking."

Hanzo hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Before we left… Lena and Torbjorn were discussing the old days of Overwatch. When they… when anyone speaks of Genji, they usually do so in the context of his troubles from those days. Not just the physical changes he had to endure, but also the mental anguish."

Hanzo sighed softly before he continued. "I wonder how the members of Overwatch thought of me for what I did to their comrade… to my brother. What they still think. Although they are all kind and treat me no differently to anyone else, I cannot help but wonder if they think ill of me. The subject is one that they seem to lightly tread around as if it's a wild beast on the verge of waking."

 

McCree was silent for a while, considering his answer. Although Genji and Hanzo had made a lot of progress since working together with the new Overwatch team, their past was still a sore point for the older Shimada brother.

"I don't pretend I speak for the others, but one of the reasons I never brought it up before now with you was because it didn't feel like my place. If you want to talk about it, of course I'll listen. But not until you want to."

McCree reached up to tuck a loose strand of Hanzo's hair, streaked with grey, behind the other man's ear. "Genji forgave you. What anyone else thinks is second to that. But if it makes you feel better, I can tell you what I thought when I first heard the extent of Genji's injuries from Angela."

Hanzo nodded, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and around his mouth deepening with tacit emotion.

"I wondered how you were both coping, honestly. People can insist they're fine 'til they're blue in the face, but it doesn't mean anything unless you see it in 'em. Genji was hurting the whole time I knew him until we all got the recall signal, and I could see the time in Nepal had done him good. And when I first met you… you reminded me of Genji from back then. But I see the improvement in you, too. And it makes me happy for the both of you."

McCree leaned in to kiss the corners of Hanzo's lips, drawing a small smile from the other man. "We're both people with regrets in life. My time with the Deadlock Gang was something I'll be seeking redemption for 'til the day I die. That's the important part, right? We both saw where we went wrong and we're making up for it. Only thing we can do is keep on keepin' on."

"I suppose you're right," Hanzo murmured, humming softly as McCree leaned in to mouth at his throat. "But you still did not answer my question."

McCree looked up at him with a lopsided grin. "What I thought of you? I thought you were the most gorgeous thing I'd ever seen, sweetheart."

"That doesn't answer the question either," Hanzo replied, and McCree could tell he was rolling his eyes from his tone. "But I will accept it. I think I've mentioned before that this sort of comfort suited you far too well, but now I’m certain of it."

“I'll take that as a compliment,” McCree chuckled, relaxing once more and resting his head against Hanzo's lap as he turned his attention to the television, the other man's fingers once again starting to run through his hair.

**five. Darling**

Hanzo was pretty darn clingy.

It was something you wouldn't think of the elder Shimada if you only knew him vaguely, or even if you knew him well. But then, McCree knew him better than most.

Hanzo was shuddering against him, arms thrown tightly around McCree's shoulders and neck as he tried to will himself to calm. McCree kissed him, long and deep, helped him slow down and return the world to its regular speed after the rush of climax.

"'S alright. Got you, darlin'. Got you," McCree said, words slurred against Hanzo's skin as he struggled to calm himself. They grounded each other in the end, reaching the pliant calm almost at the same time; McCree chuckled softly and kissed both of Hanzo's blushing cheeks. His skin always flushed like this after sex, and McCree thought it was far more beautiful than it had any right to be.

"You're as pretty as a picture, you know that?"

Hanzo rolled away from McCree for a second, grabbed the other man's hat from the bedside table and dropped it on his head, forcing it down over his eyes. "Quiet, cowboy. Or maybe you should keep talking, otherwise you'll just fall asleep like you always do afterward."

"Ouch. Alright, alright," McCree said, taking his hat off and placing it carefully back from where it came from. "The claws come out."

Hanzo's smile was innocent, but McCree could see the smirk in his eyes.

The mission in China had gone off without a hitch, and Hanzo was now looking forward to a short reprieve from Overwatch business and would be travelling back to Japan for the duration. After meeting with Morrison, Angela, Reinhardt and Torbjorn for debriefing in two days time, McCree would be following him and they'd be spending the remaining three days in Hanamura before returning to duty.  
After a few stressful situations and not a whole lot of comfort in between, McCree was looking forward to it.

Hanzo was already getting up to go and claim the shower for himself first; it was a race he never lost because McCree was far more tolerant of feeling unclean than Hanzo. Still, wouldn't hurt to try his luck.

"Lookin' for company?"

"I will consider letting you join me if you wash your hair. It smells like an ashtray."

"Couldn't hear you complain about it when you had your face buried in it earlier."

Hanzo narrowed his eyes. "That is how I know it needs washing."

"Alright. I'll make you an even better offer than that," McCree said, throwing his hands up in surrender. "I'll wash your back, too."

"It's a deal," Hanzo replied with a smile as he turned towards the bathroom and pulled his hair free from its sash. McCree watched Hanzo standing there; the other man was completely naked besides the ink on his skin, grey streaked through his hair, eyes dark with emotion, hardly aware of the intensity with which he was being watched. McCree realised he'd never felt quite as smitten as he did at that exact moment.

He came up from behind Hanzo and slid his arms around his waist; Hanzo didn't seem surprised at all and instead leaned into the touch.

"I love you dearly, darlin'."

Hanzo said nothing in return, didn't even complain about the pet name, but McCree didn't need him to. Right now, he was happy with this.

**plus one. My Love**

It was late at night when McCree touched down in Japan, and later still by the time his taxi reached Hanamura. He put the bill on Overwatch's account and figured that Morrison would have plenty of time to tear him a new one when they reported back to Gibraltar, if he was so inclined. Right now he just wanted to get some damn sleep.

The men Hanzo used to guard his family's reclaimed estate still insisted on checking him over, and by the time they were satisfied McCree was just about dead on his feet. He slipped into the main bedroom quietly; Hanzo usually slept lightly, so McCree was surprised when he didn't stir at all. He shed his clothes quickly and slid onto the futon next to Hanzo, who only stirred when he felt McCree's cooler skin brush against his own.

"Jesse…?"

"I'm here, darlin'."

Hanzo shifted and muttered something in Japanese, face-down into his pillows. McCree could only feel softness and warmth as their bodies nestled against each other.

"Gonna have to speak up a little," he whispered as Hanzo curled up against his back.

"Mmm…" Hanzo hummed, sounding slightly grumpy as he drifted back to sleep. "Welcome back… my love."

McCree was able to fall asleep with a smile on his face despite his exhaustion thanks to that.

**Author's Note:**

> Please check out [this wonderful art](http://rubygoby.tumblr.com/post/150190545093/mccrees-penchant-for-pet-names-is-my-aesthetic) by Rubygoby, which was inspired by this fic!


End file.
